


Control

by ix_tab



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-09
Updated: 2011-06-09
Packaged: 2017-10-20 06:40:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/209839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ix_tab/pseuds/ix_tab
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post movie. Charles POV. Charles has it all, every aspect under control</p>
            </blockquote>





	Control

He’s got it all under control. He’s got it just right. Everyone is going to be ok. Everyone is going to be normal. Everyone is going to be extraordinary and everyone is going to be accepted.

But he can’t make it translate to real life. He looks at his ideals, he hears the words that Erik, that Raven shout at him. Naïve, says Erik and his eyes are older then his body. Oblivious says Raven, and no matter the shade of her skin she looks so hurt.

He just isn’t explaining it right. But he will. He’s a genius, he’s a mind reader. One day he’ll figure out the combination of words and emotion to change Raven’s mind, to calm Erik’s rage. One day they’ll laugh and say ‘Charles, you were right, peace is our only true option!’

He can’t believe anything else. He won’t.

He’ll lose them all, eventually, he fears, he knows. One by one, burnt out by the hate and the fear of the common man. But one shining moment is all he needs and he will save them all, the humans, the mutants, everyone and everything in between.

Give him peace or give him death. He’ll lose his legs, his mind, his lovers, his family, all of it, but he will have peace.

He wonders if this is how Erik feels. Knows it isn’t. Knows that Erik is all about tight control, bone deep rage, and planning that is perfect and gets thrown aside the moment he makes the first step into action. Erik doesn’t feel like a paper thin membrane stretched out over miles of earth, and Erik is anything but an optimist.

He still believes. He believes in every mutant, in every human. He will have peace.

Erik laughs sometimes, when they meet, in dark corners all around the world. Erik laughs, and his voice has changed, even though the feel of his mind, seething, bubbling with power hasn’t. Erik’s become something more then a man, more then the silly cape he’s swanning about in.

“Are you happy, Erik?” He asks, gently, not intent on mockery. He wants to know. Has killing humans made Erik happy? Has revenge, has war brought Erik happiness? Has death given Erik something that he could not have offered.

“I don’t know if I can be, but sometimes I am satisfied. And really that’s all that’s left for me,” Erik says lightly, like it isn’t a monstrous thing to say. Charles shifts, intent on not looking shocked.

Satisfied he says, satisfied at the blood on his hand. Charles wants to hate him, wants to hate him for not believing, for not being able to believe. But one may as well hate the sun for rising.

Whatever he could have been is irrelevant. What he is now, what he has become matters, and Erik is a killer and a freedom fighter, and Charles is a protector and an apologist. He apologises for the monstrosities of humankind visited upon his children. He apologises for the torture and the fear and the hate.

He holds their hands and apologises to all of them. But he will have peace. He cannot have anything else.

After the first few stilted, jarring meetings, Erik has grown almost jovial in referring to Charles disability. It’s a fraud of emotions, because Charles knows Erik knows they both feel the rush of shamepityanger whenever they encounter a stumbling block brought up by this new limit of mobility. Charles has given up trying to talk about it with Erik, a rare concession for him.

Only another telepath would understand him, anyway. This body, this flesh and blood thing was his least important belonging. His body could never match his mind. Wheels or legs, what did it matter, because his mind flew higher and faster then anything in the world.

Still, he can’t help but appreciate the attention that Erik lavishes on his form, even now, both of them sworn enemies, both of them not very good at staying estranged. Erik cries when Charles takes him for the first time after the shooting, careful and arranged positioning, Erik working himself down with infinite care onto Charles’ cock.

His lower body functions, though he felt it not, but Charles laughs when it's brought up.

“I am a telepath. The brain is where pleasure comes from. Just because I don’t experience it the same, rest assured my friend, I am pleased. I am,” he placates Erik. Erik’s face goes dark though, his mood soured. Charles sighs and begins to clean himself, re-dressing with a care he did not have 6 months ago.

“If…if you had just come with me, Charles, you could be walking out of here with me now, arm in arm,” Erik mutters, low, turning to face the wall. Charles catches himself groaning under his breath, weary from more then the exertions of sex.

“…It was good to see you again. Give Raven my love,” Charles says finally, and using the recently more developed muscles in his upper body, he moves himself off the bed, back into his chair. He rolls out, slowly, and hears Erik rustling in the bedsheets, moving around, maybe to stop him leaving. But he doesn’t. Erik says nothing and the door closes with a click.

He doesn’t know what will happen when peace comes. He can’t know, can’t imagine it really. Perhaps he will feel the satisfaction Erik claims. Perhaps he will feel happiness. Perhaps he will no longer be burdened with the deaths on his conscience, everyone of them, mutant and human. Perhaps his children will cluster around him, laughing and singing.

He will have peace.


End file.
